


i'd breathe you in every single day

by tesselated



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Valentine's Day, real gay, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 16:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6016947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tesselated/pseuds/tesselated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don't usually take Valentine's Day seriously but Yamaguchi has been making jokes about what shitty Valentine's Day gift he'd receive this year for weeks, and in a rare urge to rebel, Kei decided he wanted to prove him wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'd breathe you in every single day

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentines day!! this started as fluff but turned into smut with some lowkey discussion of very light d/s power dynamics. haha we've all been there right. 
> 
> title from selena gomez's "hands to myself" because i am gay. thanks

Tsukishima Kei is making a nice dinner. He had been repeating it to himself all day like a mantra, in order to convince himself that it is, in fact, possible. He’s not a terrible cook, but he doesn’t actively try very often.

They don’t usually take Valentine’s Day seriously in their house, is the thing. It was partially a half-hearted rebellion on Kei’s part; many years ago, when he and Yamaguchi started dating, they decided one of them should get Valentine’s Day and one should get White Day, to be fair.

“Who gets to be the guy?” Kei asked petulantly, because he was nineteen and always petulant.

“Me,” Yamaguchi decided boldly with a grin, and Kei narrowed his eyes.

It wasn't a sore spot, not really; he wasn't proud enough to truly be offended. He bought Yamaguchi chocolates and flowers every February, but sometimes (just sometimes) he bought the generic ones, the ones that girls buy for their coworkers and classmates. When Yamaguchi opened them he always snickered reluctantly, the way he always does if Kei's jokes are funny but he doesn't want to admit it.

They don't usually take Valentine's Day seriously but Yamaguchi has been making jokes about what shitty Valentine's Day gift he'd receive this year for weeks, and in a rare urge to rebel, Kei decided he wanted to prove him wrong.

So here he is, in the kitchen, surrounded by grocery bags full of expensive ingredients to make a recipe that he looked up on the internet. It's late afternoon, hours before Yamaguchi will get home, and he feels slightly overwhelmed. He pushes up his glasses in a determined sort of way and sighs quietly.

He's not a terrible cook because despite any natural skill or training, he values precision and is good at following directions. Yamaguchi is better at this than him, he's had more practice, and Kei's watched him guess and estimate amounts of salt and sugar, shrug after tossing things into a pan. Kei instead measures things closely, and re-reads the recipe for each new step.

After two hours, a near-burn and almost nicking his finger with their sharpest knife, he stands with his hands on his hips to look at the kitchen table. The steak is still resting but all the side dishes and rice are laid out in their nicest small bowls, a proper _ichiju sansai_. The kitchen itself is a disaster, and he still has an apron on (they only own one, and it's a violent shade of pink; if he remembers correctly, Yamaguchi borrowed it from Yachi a couple years ago and Yachi never asked for it back.) As he stands at the sink and starts to wash his dirtied dishes, and the sound of a key in the front door makes him turn his head like a dog.

It's Yamaguchi, but there's another voice too, and Kei furrows his eyebrows at the noise coming from the entryway of their apartment. He wipes his wet hands on the front of the apron and moves to figure out who else is in their house when Yamaguchi turns the corner into the kitchen, followed closely by —

"Momoka," Kei mutters to himself vaguely. One of Yamaguchi's sisters, the older one.

"Oh," Yamaguchi says quietly, looking remorsefully at the table, "oh no."

Kei clears his throat and steps forward with an awkward wave. "Hi, Momoka-san."

"You said I wasn't interrupting anything!" Momoka says angrily in a hushed voice, turning toward Tadashi and slapping him on the arm.

"It was a surprise," Kei mumbles, his face pink, and oh god, he's still wearing the apron.

"Oh no," Tadashi groans again, face in his hands. Kei can't make out his expression in the light (dimmed halfway on their switch, for ambience that has turned somewhat humiliating), and he can't tell if Tadashi is laughing or groaning.

"I'm so sorry," Momoka says earnestly, "I got into a fight with my boyfriend, and Tadashi invited me but I didn't want to intrude, I'm so sorry —" she stammers on, and both siblings have near-identical expressions of regret, dark red blushes across their freckled faces. Momoka always looked the most like Tadashi, but nearly twenty centimeters shorter, and it's strange to see them like mirror images of each other.

"No, it's fine," he assures Momoka, mostly out of pity for her and her unfortunate situation. On top of her fight with her boyfriend, she had to witness a portion of her brother's romantic life, which from experience Kei knows is unpleasant.

"I'm going to go put my stuff down, I'm sorry again, sorry," Momoka repeats herself as she walks out of the room, and Tadashi looks over at him finally.

"Oh, Kei," Tadashi groans, walking forward to rest his forehead on Kei's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You should be," Kei mutters, face hot from embarrassment, and he rolls his eyes.

Tadashi steps back and his hands move to untie the back of the apron apron still hanging from Kei's neck, pulling it over his head to take it off. "You're never romantic. You picked such a bad day."

Kei raises his eyebrows, offended. "Excuse you."

"Sorry, that was mean," Tadashi says with an apologetic smile.

"It was mean. I'm giving your steak to your sister."

"Steak?" Tadashi asks, eyebrows raised. "You don't know how to cook steak."

"And yet I did."

Tadashi groans again, puts his face in his hands. He's still in his work clothes, plain slacks and a crisp white button-down shirt, and to see him so embarrassed makes him look younger than he is, like when they used to wear school uniforms. "You really tried, didn't you."

"I did," Kei agrees.

Tadashi sighs, pulls himself up to tip-toes so he's taller than Kei, tall enough to wrap his arms around the back of Kei's neck. "I'm sorry. I love you."

Kei rolls his eyes but leans in to give Tadashi the kiss he's asking for, because really he's not that upset, and he likes the way Tadashi's fingers are brushing against the back of his neck. "Love you too. Jerk."

"She's not staying the night," Tadashi says, more quietly.

"Ah," Kei says in response. Tadashi's intentions are clear, and he says it like another apology. _I'll make it up to you_ , Kei hears in his words. "Well."

Tadashi smirks at him, a small thing that looks too innocent for what it is. Tadashi always looks innocent, no matter what he's doing, and it's annoying. He lowers himself back to his usual height and runs a hand through Kei's hair, smoothing it down in the places it was already disheveled.

There's a heavy sigh from across the room and Momoka shuffles into the kitchen. "You guys are making me sad."

Kei feels himself blush again (it's been seven years but he's still not good at public displays of affection, even in his own kitchen) and turns away from Tadashi, who's frowning at his sister. "Do you want dinner?"

"I don't want to eat your fancy romantic dinner," Momoka says, frowning and sighing again.

But she eats it anyway, despite her complaints and there's plenty for all three of them; Tadashi and Kei aren't very heavy eaters, and he bought too much food for just them to eat. She tells Tadashi (and Kei, to a lesser extent) about the argument with her boyfriend and her depressing Valentine's Day.

"And then! And then, he turns to me, and he says —" Momoka starts, but they don't hear what he said because her phone starts vibrating on the table. "Ugh," she mutters, and when Kei glances at the screen it's a picture of the boy he's met a few times, heart emojis next to his given name.

She walks out of the room to answer it, speaking in a low tone in their living room, and Tadashi turns to him and sighs.

"I'm so glad to not be twenty," he says, pouring himself another cup of sake. It's not hot anymore but neither of them are bothered enough to warm it up.

Kei snorts. "Instead we're just old and boring."

"No, we're old and wise. My sisters ask me for love advice all the time, you know."

Kei narrows his eyes and turns to look at Tadashi. "That's weird."

"Just because you and Akiteru —" Tadashi starts what's sure to be a preachy sentence, but Kei cuts him off.

"Oh my god, don't talk to me about my relationship with my brother on Valentine's Day," he says, laughing.

"Fine," Tadashi says, rolling his eyes, but grinning. "Besides, it's different. They're girls. They ask me because," he gestures loosely between them.

"I'm sorry, is that the "because I'm gay" hand signal?" Kei asks, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm not gay," Tadashi laughs, leaning over to knock his shoulder with Kei's.

"That's why I was confused, obviously."

Tadashi laughs again, the kind of laugh he only gets when he's had just slightly too much sake.

He leans to rest his head on Kei's shoulder, their chairs too close together for how big their dining room table is (excessive, Yamaguchi called it excessive when they bought it, but it's nice.)

"Dinner was really good, Tsukki. Thank you." It's quiet and it's sweet, and it's the kind of thing that makes Kei blush a little. Sometimes Kei forgets, since Tadashi has gotten so skilled at teasing him and smirking, how _nice_ he is. It's stupid, because Tadashi has always been nice, always been the kind of earnest and sweet that makes your teeth hurt, but he grew immune to it a long time ago. And then Tadashi looks at him fond and endeared, biting his lip against half a smile, and something in Kei's chest warms over and he remembers being sixteen and so embarrassed over the way Tadashi cared for him.

They're broken out of the moment when Momoka comes back into the kitchen, her phone conversation apparently over. Tadashi sits up, pulling his head off of Kei's shoulder, and turns to her expectantly.

She doesn't look totally happy about it, but she mutters, "He apologized."

"Oh?" Tadashi asks.

She nods, looking sheepish. "I think we're going to talk more about it, uh, at dinner."

"Didn't you tell him you already ate?" Tadashi ask.

"It's just, he made plans..." Momoka trails off, looking guilty. 

"Do you need a ride?" Kei asks, surprising both Tadashi and Momoka, from the looks of it. He's stayed quiet for most of the dinner, mostly because Tadashi had a lot more to say than him.

"No, there's a train coming in a few minutes that I can take. Thank you both, uh, and sorry, again. I hope I didn't ruin your Valentine's Day."

Kei shrugs her off but Tadashi goes as far as to say, "There's still a lot of Valentine's Day left."

" _Tadashi_ ," Kei mutters, going pink as Momoka grimaces.

"Great. Goodnight, Tadashi." She heads toward the doorway with her purse over her shoulder, and Tadashi snickers before following her out, their quiet goodbyes audible from the kitchen.

"I can't believe you," Kei mumbles when Tadashi walks back in, brushing his hair from his forehead.

Tadashi rolls his eyes and grabs Kei's hand, pulling him up from the table. "Oh, shut up."

"The kitchen's a mess," Kei comments but lets Tadashi pull him along.

"I'll do the dishes tomorrow morning," Tadashi replies quickly, like Kei is trying to stall them. In reality, that's far from the truth. It's rare for either of them to be this forward, and there's something exciting about that.

When they get to their bedroom, neatly decorated and organized, Tadashi untucks his work shirt quickly, pulling at the buttons. Kei, surprised by the urgency, follows suit and pulls his worn henley shirt off.

"You're in a hurry," Kei notes casually.

"You looked so cute in that stupid apron," Tadashi says in reply, undoing his belt. "You cooked me _dinner_."

"That's all it takes, huh? A little easy, Tadashi," Kei smirks.

Tadashi snickers for a moment and walks over, starts undoing the button of Kei's jeans. Kei's smirk slips off of his face.

"Are you complaining?" Tadashi asks, low and serious, his lips still upturned. His shirt and belt are in a trail behind him, and Kei glances at them before looking back at Tadashi.

"Well, it's not like me to complain," Kei says quietly. Tadashi laughs again before leaning in and kissing him. It's slower than Kei expected, like Tadashi had been doing the messy job of removing clothes in such a rush so he could take his time on this.

Kei doesn't remember clearly when he takes his glasses of, or who pushes who onto the bed. He feels like he resurfaces some twenty minutes later with both of them in their underwear on top of their well-made bed.

"Mm," Tadashi pulls away from where he was making a mark on Kei's collarbone and looks at him. "What do you want?"

"I —" Kei starts, breathing ragged, "uh." 

Tadashi keeps looking at him expectantly, always unwilling to let Kei off the hook. 

"Just...you know." Kei mutters, embarrassed.

"Nearly thirty years old and you still can't ask me to fuck you?" Tadashi asks, looking amused. 

Kei rolls his eyes and shifts uncomfortably underneath Tadashi, his hips involuntarily trying to find friction. Tadashi is still looking at him, like a challenge.

"I want you to fuck me." Kei says through gritted teeth, closing his eyes so he can't see Tadashi smirk. He's lying, anyway. Kei has said the words plenty of times. 

"Of course," Tadashi says sweetly, like he's doing him a favor.

He wonders, sometimes, where Tadashi's timidness went. His nervous laughter turned into something more confident and the slump in his shoulders went away. But then, he's different too, certainly different than he was when Tadashi used to look at him like something unattainable. More mature, hopefully. He remembers their first Valentine's Day, when they were teenagers, and they both blushed at the ground after Kei handed Tadashi his gifts, so embarrassed for their messy feelings to see the light of day.

In the present day, Tadashi kisses him with purpose, hands gripped around Kei's hips. Kei shakes himself out of his thoughts and reaches down to Tadashi's thin waist. He pushes at the waistband of Tadashi's boxer briefs (purple, with polka dots. Stupid.)

Tadashi makes a noise, maybe a gasp, and Kei works harder to get Tadashi fully undressed. His hand brushes against the length of Tadashi's hard cock and he groans quietly, mouth hanging open from their kiss. He shimmies the rest of the way out of his underwear and brings his thigh in to press against Kei's crotch, making Kei buck eagerly.

"C'mon," Tadashi mutters, apparently getting impatient, before peeling the waistband of Kei's boxers down. He kisses Kei on the mouth again before traveling downward, looking up through long eyelashes as he kisses his way down Kei's stomach.

"Don't tease me," Kei mumbles, squirming impatiently while Tadashi leaves him what he's sure will be a hickey on his hipbone.

"Don't tell me what to do," Tadashi says lightly, smiling up at Kei. "You're the one who likes to get bossed around, not me."

"I — _bossed around_ isn't —" Kei stammers with furrowed eyebrows, caught off guard. He pulls himself to rest on his elbows and look down at Tadashi.

"So touchy," Tadashi laughs, thumb stroking the mark he made on Kei's hip, something tender in the motion. "Don't worry. I like it." 

It's a product of how much time they've spent with each other that Tadashi always knows when Kei is on the verge of actually getting offended at a joke. It's easiest to get offended with things like this, the kind of personal confessions that are painful for him to get coerced into making. (That particular confession was relatively new, and came out during a painfully awkward conversation for Kei; the sex that followed started out just as uncomfortable, but by the end of it, Yamaguchi seemed...acclimated.)

"Lie back down, Kei," Tadashi tells him, hands trailing down to the tops of Kei's thighs.

Kei does what he's told. Tadashi takes the head of his dick in his mouth, and Kei feels his back arch against his will. Tadashi is good at this, better than Kei is, probably. More patient, less lazy. Kei's mind is mostly blank while Tadashi's mouth works, and he's startled when Tadashi's mouth separates from Kei's body with a slick noise.

He opens his eyes, blinking down at Tadashi, who's wiping his mouth. "Where's the lube?"

"Oh," Kei mutters, shifting toward their nightstand and stretching to open the drawer. He tosses the bottle down toward Yamaguchi, who turns to press a small kiss onto the inside of Kei's thigh as thanks.

It doesn't take much prep, but Tadashi still takes his time, and the way he keeps his eyes locked on Kei's makes him feel embarrassed. Kei slings his arm over his face, breathing heavy into the crook of his elbow, and tries not to react the way he knows Tadashi wants him to. It's not until Tadashi takes him in his mouth again that Kei lets out more than a gasp, but the action surprises him enough that he moans, choked off and desperate.

It's overwhelming, Tadashi's fingers in him and his lips wrapped around his dick, and he knows that Tadashi will realize that he'll come soon if he keeps this up. Right when he's feeling desperate enough to thrust further into Yamaguchi's mouth, Tadashi pulls off and crawls up toward him, leaving him empty and aching.

He wants to cry at the loss of sensation, and Tadashi looks apologetic at the look on his face.

"Sorry. You good?"

Tadashi knows the answer but Kei nods anyway, lets Tadashi kiss his half-open mouth before pulling away to move Kei by the hips, line them up properly. It's slow on purpose, Kei knows, and he has half a mind to be angry. He asked Tadashi not to tease him and Tadashi took it as a challenge. Still, Tadashi is _hard_ , and challenge or no, he'll lose his self-control soon enough.

Kei goes to stroke himself, to make up for Tadashi's painfully slow movements, but Tadashi moves his hand away and replaces it with his own, matching the rhythm of his hips.

Kei makes a frustrated noise and he hears Tadashi laugh, breathy and distant.

"Hey," Tadashi says, sounding like he's working hard to keep his voice level.

"Yeah?" Kei asks, not bothering to do the same, and it comes out rough.

Tadashi laughs again before softly saying, "Love you."

Kei feels a surge of affection and he smiles vaguely up at Tadashi. "Then fuck me already."

Tadashi lets out another string of breathy laughter before he takes the hint, hips moving faster against Kei and his hand following the rhythm. Kei lets out a relieved groan at the feeling, and Tadashi moves faster.

He's right, Tadashi loses his self-control at some point, and Kei feels like he's only tangentially aware of what Tadashi's actually doing. He's more focused on how much he wants to come and how close he is to coming than the fact that Tadashi is unraveling along with him. When Tadashi's hand stops moving, Kei looks up to see him biting his lip, hands balled in the sheets on either side of Kei's body. He keeps his eyes opened and trained carefully on the way Tadashi is falling apart, because even after seeing it this many times, it's _pretty_. His long hair is matted to his forehead and his arms are trembling from overexertion and he looks so delicate like this. Tadashi comes with another thrust and he falls forward at the force of it, face pressed into Kei's neck while he breathes heavy.

Kei runs a hand through his sweaty hair and Tadashi lazily kisses the side of his neck.

"Your turn," Tadashi mutters weakly, hand back on Kei's dick but moving at a slower pace. His lips keep brushing against the skin on Kei's throat and he's still inside of him, and his senses are close to being overloaded. It doesn't take long for him to come, fingernails digging into Tadashi's scalp on instinct, more rough than he intends in his attempt to ground himself. He lets out a long exhale as Tadashi finally pulls out, and they lie their in a messy pile for a few minutes.

"Oh," Kei mutters, only now remembering. "I love you too. Obviously."

"Obviously," Tadashi mutters back, grinning to himself. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Kei makes a noise of agreement. "This is better than how we usually celebrate."

"Well, it was a good dinner," Tadashi says back, making Kei laugh quietly to himself.

They lie in the mess for as long as they can stand it (which isn't long, both of them neat by nature) before taking a lazy shower, together for the sake of convenience more than intimacy. 

Tadashi washes the dishes with his hair still wet and a pair of Kei's sweatpants hanging low on his hips, while Kei sits at the counter and pretends to read a book, watching the muscles in his back move as he sing pop songs under his breath and puts dishes on the drying rack.


End file.
